


I'm too scared to say it's over

by thatkindahurtedmethough



Series: i keep bullying these volleyball boys [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm, Sugawara Koushi Needs A Hug, Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers, this is me venting sdjfklsd, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:28:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28745496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatkindahurtedmethough/pseuds/thatkindahurtedmethough
Summary: He has a caring family. (or so he thinks.)He has a loving boyfriend.He gets good grades.Life is good.So why is it not good enough?Sugawara is teetering on the edge, but some unknown force is pulling him back.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Series: i keep bullying these volleyball boys [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095980
Kudos: 20





	I'm too scared to say it's over

**Author's Note:**

> vent fic  
> TRIGGER WARNING! self harm, suicidal thoughts
> 
> Am i projecting onto Suga? Am I? I'm ok btw I'm on a roller coaster that only goes up
> 
> if you are contemplating suicide, please seek help. I love you so much and even though I've never met you, you're going to do great things in the world. I know it.

Sugawara's alarm blared throughout his room, cutting through the cold, empty atmosphere of his dark room before jolting him awake. He fumbled around for the snooze button, unwilling to drag himself out of bed to face another emotionless day. 

Most days were like that. 

His legs and hips ached from the scars that were now adorning them, delicately and painfully dancing on his pale skin. He remembered the act of creating those lines; dragging a broken bread clip (because his family kept razor blades in the garage, and he simply did not have the energy) across skin pulled taught repetitively before a gash formed.

Bloodless.

So they didn't count, right?

They only ached and hurt and scarred and faded; they would be gone within a few months. A blank slate, if you would be so kind as to call him a slate. But Suga's thoughts continued to pierce his brain, poisoning his mind. At least a slate was useful. Sugawara couldn't even manage to get out of bed. Couldn't even manage to get his starting position back from the grasps of the over-talented raven haired boy that he had simply handed over his place to. 

Groaning and rubbing his eyes with his fists, he crawled out of bed and changed into a pair of joggers and a hoodie, with a plain white shirt underneath for practice. There was a reason he'd left his arms untouched. There was no way he would allow his teammates to see his scars. 

He was fine. 

He couldn't risk them thinking that he was an attention seeker, because that would destroy him. 

_'But you are one, aren't_ you?

Shut up.

_Don't lie to yourself. You have everything you could possibly want in the world._

Shut up.

_Ungrateful. You attention seeker._

Please, please, please just be quiet,' Suga brushed his fingers through his pale locks, frustration dawning upon his face. 

' _pick up the blade, Suga.'_ the voice in his head nagged and pestered until he gingerly plucked the breadclip from the flat surface of his table. Glancing down at his thighs, he found that he was running out of space. Breathing out a sigh, he lifted up his hoodie and shirt, before scratching at his abdomen with the clip, skin puffing up. Exhaling shakily, he kept going until he was satisfied, convinced the voice would leave him alone. Wiping away the curls of skin that had been scraped away, he continued on with his preparations for the school day.

* * *

The day passed quickly, each passing second reminding him about how useless he was, and how rarely he was able to feel some sort of emotion. Was he broken? 

His soft voice always cheered on the people next to him, raising their spirits in hopes that their happiness could bring him his, which had been lost long ago. He hated bringing attention to himself, already subconsciously assuring himself that everyone was staring at him, talking about him, hating him, sabotaging him. It was so draining, having to endure this on a daily basis. 

The voices in his head spoke sweetly into his ear, their candy words addicting, their caffeinated truths bingeworthy. He excused himself to go to the washroom in the middle of math classes, taking his bag with him. Locking the door to a stall, he pulled out a bag of acetaminophen pills and opened it, hands trembling. One shaky hand reached into the bag and pulled one out, placing it to his lips. All he needed to do was open.

All

he

needed

to

do

was

open.

So why couldn't he open?

Now the voices switched gears.

' _You can't just leave your family behind. You'll kill them, you'll pass your suffering onto them!_

_Seek help, Koushi. You need to seek help._

_What about Daichi? How could you possibly leave him?_

_You're suffering isn't real. It's not valid, you have no reason to end your life like this.'_

So with a shaky exhale, he closed up the bag of pills and returned it to it's idle place in his bag. He got up, and continued to drag himself with the burden of breathing, the strings on his arms and legs attached to a wooden maneuvering item as the voices in his head controlled his movements. 

They always have, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I am what? mad that this story made absolutely no sense but too tired and too done to edit <3


End file.
